


Amaranthine

by tirsynni



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An older, more worn Charles Xavier seizes his opportunity to change the past...and maybe claim the love of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amaranthine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mabyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabyn/gifts).



> Written for **mabyn** for the Secret Mutant Madness 2015. This is based on this prompt: DOFP Canon AU where Charles is able to survive time travel and goes back to the past. The reason he goes back to the past can be canonical (to stop the sentinels), but it can also be any reason you dream up. The important thing is: time travel! Charles being in his younger body and having a second chance with Erik! Bonus if there are old men feelings/scenes in the future as well. General notes: I tend to avoid non-con and underage, but otherwise have at it! I have a huge competency kink and I love when they're badasses in their own ways. I'm a sucker for angst and complicated situations. Please feel welcome to depart from the prompt to create whatever inspires you! I'm sure I'll love it.

In his heart of hearts, Charles Xavier admitted that he was selfish. It was a secret openly shared with few. For too many, especially now, the selfless, idealistic Professor X was needed to give hope, to guide, and to provide strength.

Except Charles was old now, and worn, and he could admit to himself that Erik had always been the idealistic, selfless one of the pair. Erik had always thrown himself fully into everything he did, and his dream of a mutant Utopia – free of Auschwitz’s shadow – remained strong even now, when all other dreams grew dim.

Charles had always been selfish, something he hid among his plays and politics over the years. Sharon’s influence, strong until the end, the manipulation and background planning new money never quite understood. That was why, when they discussed using Kitty’s power to change the past, he didn’t think of the Sentinels.

Oh, yes. Quite selfish, to an extent perhaps only Hank and Moira would suspect…but after decades of only stolen moments, Charles Xavier was comfortable being selfish.

“I volunteer,” he said, and for the first time in years, graced his students – friends? – with a sincere smile.

~~~~

Despite Erik’s aggressive attempts to exhaust him, Charles could not sleep. The clock over the mantle clicked loudly, too loudly, and Charles wrapped his arms around Erik’s torso so he wouldn’t clap his hands over his ears. Even in his sleep, Erik wrapped his own arms around Charles and pulled him close, half on top of Charles as if to protect him with his body. Erik wiped them both off before he fell asleep, but he still smelled comfortingly of sex and sweat. Charles inhaled the musky scent, eyes caught over Erik’s shoulder on the chessboard in the middle of the room.

Why hadn’t they finished…oh yes. Charles started biting his lip, Erik commented how sexy he was when deep in thought, and quite quickly Erik was riding Charles in his chair. Good a reason as any.

With Shaw looming so close, Charles wished they had finished their game.

The chessboard blurred before his eyes. Charles blinked, eyes crossing. Tiredness hit him like one of Sean’s screams.

_Sleep_ , a strangely familiar voice whispered.

Charles closed his eyes and slept.

Stress tended to bring out the worst of his nightmares. It was part of the reason Erik sought to exhaust him tonight. When his dream coalesced into his study, Charles braced himself against Kurt’s incoming shadow.

“There is no Kurt. Not here. You must focus. We don’t have much time.”

The study blurred, shifting from Charles’s organized chaos into something cleaner, and then back to his mess again. Beside his desk, an older, bald man sat in an odd floating chair. Familiar blue eyes bore into him with a solemn intensity. More importantly, a familiar mind brushed against his, gentle, testing. Charles gasped. “You’re…”

The bald man nodded. Charles’s hand flew to his thick, dark hair. The man smiled. “Yes, it is gone, but it will be the least of your concerns. Focus, Charles, for yourself and for Erik.”

Erik… Charles straightened.

“I am doing this with the help of a fellow mutant, but she – they – underestimated our power. There is a war coming, but you can stop it. You and Erik _together_ can stop it. Not just Shaw’s war, but something else. Focus.”

Charles looked at himself, at his own worn eyes and scarred skin. The technology was like nothing else Charles had ever seen, but Charles recognized a wheelchair when he saw one.

That mind brushed his own again, and Charles reached back. It struck him like lightning. The dream blurred and flashed in waves of white. Somewhere, beyond the horizon of the dream, he heard Erik’s groggy voice. The man – an older version of _himself_ – looked up with pain-darkened eyes.

No time. No time for any of it. The truth of it echoed through Charles’s mind, as did the echoes of the clock. Time was running around. He had an idea for what, but he knew there was no time to ask. Like the Xavier line bred self-destructive tendencies, it also fostered a ruthless pragmatism. Focus on the goal and issues at hand and let all other concerns wait until later.

“What do you need from me?” Charles asked. The study kept blurring, and at one point flickering flames devoured the room. Nausea roiled inside him, and the room waved in time. Erik’s voice grew louder, clearer.

“One night,” the man – Charles – said, “and you will be prepared for what’s to come.”

There was a feeling of secrets and subterfuge, similar to when Charles convinced everyone that Raven was his adopted sister. Not his proudest hour, but a necessary one, for the sake of family.

“And love.”

The room fractured. Now Charles could feel not just his counterpart’s strength, but the shadow of someone else’s power, fiercely held in place and manipulated by his counterpart with a strength and precision Charles did not yet possess.

Feeling like he hovered over an abyss, Charles nodded. “Do it.”

The study fell away into shadow and flame.

~~~~

Erik woke to Charles clutching at him and grimacing in his sleep. He didn’t look like he was in pain, more like when he used too much power and focus on the road trip to find their fellow mutants and smooth over certain mishaps. Such use of power could cause migraines afterwards, though, and that as well as fear of what Charles was dreaming convinced Erik to shake Charles’s shoulder.

He didn’t know what Charles dreamed on those nights when he went to bed with too much on his mind, but he knew enough to dislike it. Charles woke up pale and tense, watchful, with the shadows of old pain scratching at Erik’s consciousness like hungry rats before Charles could rein them in. When this was done and Shaw was dead, Erik planned on finding out who put that darkness in Charles’s bright eyes and adding them to his tally.

But that was a task for later. Erik kissed the tense furrows in Charles’ forehead. “Wake up, Charles. It is just a dream.”

For as much as Charles seemed to like sleep – or, at least, activities which took place in bed – Charles was typically a light sleeper. Typically. He shifted in Erik’s arms now, head rolling and full lips moving like he was speaking, but Charles did not awaken.

Erik scowled and shook Charles’s shoulder. Charles’s body lolled. “Charles, wake up! Charles!”

Charles tensed, mouth still moving in a silent conversation. His eyes flickered behind thin lids. Lit by the pale moonlight streaming through the window, he seemed lean and tight, either bracing for a blow or to give one. As much as Erik encouraged him to be battle ready, he found he didn’t like the look now.

“Charles!”

With a gasp, Charles’s eyes snapped open. For a moment, Charles looked old, worn, pain dug lines etched around his mouth and eyes. Then he looked at Erik and he was Erik’s Charles again.

“Erik,” he breathed.

So close, bodies pressed tight, Erik couldn’t help but notice the slight quiver of too-tight muscles. He pulled Charles against his chest, tucking Charles’s head under his chin. Charles’s hair was sweat-damp against his neck and collarbone.

“Bad dream?” Erik asked.

Charles laughed, the sound thin and shaky. “You could say that.”

Erik kissed the crown of Charles’s head. Charles was the one who soothed nightmares while Erik was the one who pushed mutants off satellite dishes, but for Charles, Erik was willing to learn. Charles was one of the most self-sufficient people Erik knew, but he leaned into Erik’s support now.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Erik offered, echoing Charles’s words of so many nights.

Charles breathed against his neck, warm puffs against Erik’s pulse. Erik rubbed Charles’s back. With his love of cardigans and layers and baggy clothes, it was easy to overlook the lean muscle under the professor veneer. Strong, lightly furred legs rubbed restlessly against his own, strong enough to keep up with Erik. Erik palmed the delicate line of Charles’s spine and felt the man shudder.

“I dreamed you left me,” Charles said.

Of all the things Charles could have said, Erik did not expect that. Erik bit back a laugh and kept petting Charles. Such touches had been alien at first, but Charles made it easy. Erik kissed Charles’s damp hair again. “My friend, I would not leave you.”

Not willingly. He flattened a hand on Charles’s back and felt those muscles flex. Charles was strong – mentally and physically – but there were so many threats against them. Shaw was just one of them. Erik wrapped his other arm around Charles’s shoulders and held him close. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Silence except for soft breathing. He felt Charles’s torso expand with each inhale. Charles shifted, nuzzled his neck, kissed Erik’s collarbone.

“There are other reasons to leave, my love,” and there was a tone in Charles’s voice that Erik had never heard before, aged and hardened. “Like misunderstandings. I…have not been as open as I should have been.”

Now Erik laughed, soft and disbelieving into Charles’s hair. He and Charles _fit_ , something he had felt in the drowning waters of the ocean , when Charles had followed him against the human’s protests in Russia. They matched like Erik had never believed possible, and together, they would change the world. There were certain…possibilities…for clashes, but he knew he could persuade Charles…or, at least, work around them. “Charles –”

Charles pulled back against Erik’s grip so he could look into Erik’s eyes. In the darkness, his eyes looked endless. “I have not,” Charles repeated, the fierceness in his voice taking Erik aback. “I know…we don’t always agree, Erik. Our viewpoints are so different. I know there…” Charles exhaled, body shaking with it, and Erik stared at him. “With Shaw, _killing him will not bring you peace_ , and I know you don’t care but I do. I know you are going to kill him and I hate that. But I don’t want that to divide us. With Shaw, I don’t agree because I believe murder should be a last resort and I don’t want any more blood on your hands, _but I will support you_.”

Erik rubbed Charles’s sides, fascinated by Charles’s intensity. The rest of him was caught by Charles’s words. He expected his idealistic lover, spoiled by peace and privilege, to fight him to the death about Shaw. He expected a scenario where he needed to beg forgiveness instead of permission.

This…this opened up a new world of possibility.

Charles leaned over to rest his forehead against Erik’s. Erik tasted his breath, sour with sleep but still with a tinge of Erik’s cum from earlier. “When we go against Shaw, we go _together_ , as partners. You…you lose yourself and keep leaving me behind. You don’t need to. I won’t slow you down. We may not agree, but I know we can come out stronger. _You aren’t alone anymore._ ”

This close all Erik could see were Charles’s eyes, dark and blazing. Erik’s breath mingled with Charles’s, caught.

No. Charles kept repeating that and Erik didn’t feel it yet, but he wasn’t alone. He had a partner, an equal, beautiful and determined. Shaw was his to kill, but if Charles was willing to support him…

Erik wrapped his arms around Charles and rolled them over. Suddenly, all of his tiredness was gone. He needed Charles like breathing.

Based on Charles’s desperate gasp, he felt the same.

“I love you,” Erik panted, reaching between them. Charles intertwined their legs and ground their cocks together, feet moving ceaselessly against Erik’s calves.

“Oh, my friend,” Charles said, a sob in his throat, “I could never stop.”

Hours later, Erik grabbed Shaw’s helmet, studied it, and threw it aside. Charles breathed, his counterpart’s memories thundering through his skull, and clung on.

Decades later, Charles Xavier breathed and then kissed a confused but yielding Erik Lehnsherr. Around them, several students catcalled before being lectured by a flustered Scott Summers, but Charles was more than fine with all of it.


End file.
